Stages
by maleficium
Summary: This is about the various stages any relationship between two people in love could go through. I tried to make do without giving any names , neither of the characters in SM's books nor the actors impersonating them in the films.
1. Parting ways

He might just as well snap out of it . There was no way she would still be around this time next year.

Who was he trying to fool ? Both of them were booked solid for movies to be shot at opposite ends of the globe for the next two years.

As far as he knew they would have one week off between them. The happy ending their latest movie had been blessed with belonged to the realm of fiction. Happily-ever-afters never happened in real life , least of all to people like him.

A few breaths ago, she had still been in his arms, yet already gone, about to fade into the throngs of travelers that would go on milling through the departure halls long after they had said their goodbyes.

They were both due for some downtime now and somehow, she appeared almost relieved at the prospect , though when her gaze met his, she flashed him a brief smile as if to soften the blow.

He could still taste her on his lips, while his hands were cradling her face, not ready to let go yet.

She started to sway slightly forward , eating up the distance she had been so eager to create with her body, just as he finally willed his arms to drop, quietly resigned to the fact that she would leave anyway.

Pale with fatigue she turned away, ambling off to Departures when suddenly, as if without conscious thought, she moved back into him for one hard, final embrace. Then she was gone.

In the split second that followed pain cursed through his body, as if the visiting team's star quarterback had finally gotten to him.

He found himself bending over to catch his breath, hands braced on his thighs, silently cursing himself for being such a sissy.

Funny, that he was past caring about what the rags would make of this.

He just wanted her at his side. For everyone to see. And to hell with the consequences.

Still, he knew better than that. He would give her some space even if it killed him , even if it hurt more than he cared to admit to himself.

She had been about to keel over from exhaustion judging from the smudges under her eyes. No doubt, she would get back to him as soon as she was aboard her flight and could use her cell again.

All both of them was some sleep. Things would look different in the morning. She would never do this to him.

She'd never have left him like this, stranded at the airport of all places if this was her final goodbye. Now would she ?


	2. Resolve

He had been fairly certain that with everything they had going for them, with everything the past year had thrown at them they'd spend Christmas together.

They had come through the MTV Awards with flying colors; they had braved the panel talks of Comic Con in San Diego like seasoned troopers. Only occasionally had he allowed himself to sneak a glance her way during public appearances, just to make sure she was still there.

The way they had toughed out promoting New Moon across several continents had earned them grudging approval. Even when they had been caught red-handed, tangled up in each other minutes after the London Conference had finished there had been no criticism from the Powers that are.

Yet even then there had been those infinitesimal moments of doubt that had grown in number just like the days they had spent dodging unwanted public attention.

There had been nights when he had lain awake wondering just much longer she'd put up with it all, with the way their lives had been taken over by their fans, the way they always seemed to be on the run.

She had begged him not to go public with their relationship , after they had made love for the first time in his studio flat, pleading with him not to allow anyone to dissect their love like some unknown virus in an opaque Petri dish.

She wouldn't stand by and watch their lives being sliced into glossy sections of human life by the cameras of the paparazzi.

She'd rather fight back; lash out at them whenever she was given a chance, which would make it all worse.

They both knew. Still, there was this need to safeguard what was theirs, the moments that had not been tainted by media venom yet, which neither of them could shake.

He wouldn't have minded stepping forward to say they were together. In fact, he had longed to come clean with his feelings which he hated to keep bottled up inside.

Her plea to keep a low profile hadn't sat well with him from the start. For how much longer would she expect him to go on lying, as if his feelings for her were detrimental to his future?

He knew, although everyone had been most flattering about it, that he was not another Jack Nicholson; he was not Oscar material, simply not that brilliant an actor, neither hard-boiled nor glib enough to be remembered for any truly outstanding performance.

He had come to terms with that early on. Still, he was truly grateful for the opportunities he had been given and not expecting anything else.

But he wouldn't give up on her.

Ever.

Not if he had any say in it. She was his life now.

Period.


	3. Walking

He could see that all the media attention directed at him had taken its toll on her.

He would never be able to tell her how truly sorry he was.

No matter how often he got to voice his confusion in talk shows, why he of all people should merit that constant attention at some stage every interview zoned in on the same issue.

Sooner or later they all wanted to know whether they were an item.

When Summit had shooed them off to the Pre-New Moon press conference in Paris, she had the audience eat out of her hands , salivate over the diaphanous little number she wore, which left little to any male's imagination.

He had barely been able to keep the lid on number of icy-cold showers he seemed to be taking these days was getting ridiculous.

He had lost it a few hours later when they were on their way to their jet.

Striding alongside the petite girl, who was wearily weaving her steps over the tarmac beside him, he hadn't been able to stop himself from grabbing her, backpack and all, and bringing her up against his frame with a resounding smack.

He had come this close to choking her with his pent-up need to feel her, to blanket his craving with her body.

Beaming with pride, yet groaning with hunger , aching in places he'd never admit there existed , he had started to whirl her around, mindless of any paparazzi who might be still out on the prowl.

When they had passed by a newsstand the next morning they had found their faces staring back at them in a state of innocent bliss.

They had been to hell and back several times in a row for that one moment before some other couple had mercifully made the headlines.

He couldn t quite put his finger on when she had started to withdraw from him.

At first he had blamed it on their tight schedule and on the sophisticated gowns she had started to wear, which only added to the heat he was utterly defenceless against.

He had felt helpless, out of sorts really because he had believed that he had learned not to be frightened by her incredible beauty.

An old fear, almost forgotten and deeply buried inside him, had suddenly raised its ugly head.

He had once again been terrified that he wouldn't be able to hold on to her for much longer ,that someone more clever , more glamorous, more worthy of her would come along and make her realize what she had been too naive to see from the very beginning.

It had become more difficult to get through to her, to touch her through the various layers of delicate fabrics that only removed her farther from his reach.

He had known better than to argue with her in front of the entire cast, when she had grimly announced how much she was looking forward to spending Christmas with her family because she really needed to be among people she could trust to look out for her.

The silence that greeted her statement had been deafening.

He had felt chilled to the bone, unable to shake a sense of foreboding.

Couldn't she tell that he was just as sick and tired of sneaking into out-of-the way hotels to be with her for a few miserly hours as she was ?

She did realize that it still meant hiding behind closed doors, before turning back into that BritPack poster boy everyone couldn't seem to stop gushing about ?

He was not going down without a fight. Even if the odds were definitely not stacked in his favour.

On the last leg of their flight back into LA, when she had walked past him, the way she had hung her head had got him out of his seat in an instant. He had come close to chasing her down the aisle into the dimly lit pantry. Everyone else had been asleep or for once too tired to bother.

When he had gently turned her around to face him, the look on her face had dealt him a blow he hadn't expected quite so soon.

_"It's not like I've stopped fighting for us, for what there is between us. You know I have not. _

_I'm still prepared to take on each and every one of these lunatics who keep stalking us. I'd gladly strangle any paparazzi if I thought this would help._

_ But we both know it won't. _

_They'd still go on hunting us, chasing us like rabid animals until we're too exhausted to go on. _

_Even then we'd still be at their mercy, with them panting over what's left of us. _

_All the publicity stunts they had us do these past couple of months made me realize one thing. _

_I can't go on dodging Twilighters for the rest of my life and I'm done running because no way will we ever get rid of them. _

_I really hate what they've turned us into. _

_And I'm too tired to pretend I don't care."_


End file.
